The Blame Game

Not my cat
AI image by Mr Zed at Pixabay

When something goes wrong around my house, I think about whose fault it is.  Note that, except for those times when my grandson is more or less camping here before moving on to his next residence, there's just me and the cat living here.  But somehow, all too often, the first thought in my brain is that my grandson broke it, or my great grand-daughter misplaced it, or someone who helped me at some point in the past put it somewhere that I just can't find.  Now, all of these things are possible.  My grandson is strong.  He often tightens lids beyond my capacity to open them.  He almost never puts the twister tie back on the bread.  My great-granddaughter--a beautiful nine-year-old now--does have a history of walking around with my stuff and then walking away from it after depositing it in some other location.  The cat, well, she mostly just sheds everywhere and occasionally barfs where I am sure to step.

What strikes me in this is that (a) stuff occurs and (b) my brain should know that.  So why does my brain so frequently try to allocate blame for the stuff that occurs?

One answer that is given to that question has to do with control and power.  That is, blaming someone--anyone--can give a greater sense of control over a troublesome situation by identifying a "culprit" and thus justifying our anger and frustration with whatever has happened.  Andrea M. Darcy explores some of the reasons why we resort to blame (it's easy, it unloads backed up feelings, it deflects our own personal accountability, etc.).  Blaming others, she points out, also has its cost--in personal growth and positive relationships.

While it is clear that I may have some work to do with my brain and how it copes with the frustrations of daily living, I think we see this Blame Game playing out on the big screen of our country right now.  Just this morning, our new President's response to the tragic deaths of 67 humans in an air crash near Reagan Airport was to blame his predecessors in office for incorrect policies and DEI, of all things, for this accident.  While we may eventually see the degree to which human error might have contributed to the accident, the BG being played out before us is very definitely an example of the use of blame for power and control.  

The situation in the American Ethical Union is somewhat less clear, but the Blame Game is still being played.  When programs and services are not being provided, the tendency is to shift the blame--to one's predecessors, to a racist system, to lack of participation by others, etc.  Some of that may indeed be true.  What is lacking here is a willingness to accept responsibility for one's personal actions.  Perhaps even more importantly, what is lacking is any attempt to overcome any of these barriers with positive corrective action.  Blame, after all, is soothing.  

Things are going wrong in our AEU "house."  This has gone on for a while--and the "family" is starting to grumble.  It's past time, I think, to look--each of us--at our own responsibilities and hold ourselves accountable, yes, but, better, to look for ways to overcome the stalemates and obstacles that have stopped all progress on mission and purpose, and get back to work.  Together, if at all possible.

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Coffee Concerns

Glass jar?

I made a choice some time ago that I would stick with Cafe Puro for my coffee needs.  I based my decision on two things:  It comes in a glass jar, and Nestle doesn't make it.  I drink instant coffee because brewing coffee takes up time and space that I don't choose to give to that activity.  I started drinking instant coffee when I was living in Lamu, Kenya, while doing the field research for my dissertation.  Ma Rukia, my cook,* would boil a kettle of water on the tiny charcoal "stove" that she used and give me a thermos of water to last the rest of the day for my coffee (or tea) needs.  With a microwave, now I don't need the thermos, but I do like the convenience of having my coffee fairly quickly without a lot of fuss.  Once I became aware of Nestle's exploitive practices and then of the evils of plastic, I made my choice.

Cafe Puro is, however, made from coffee grown in the Philippines and manufactured and shipped from Germany to my local HEB.  I had been drinking HEB's generic brand coffee because the taste was acceptable, and the cost was cheaper than name brands, but HEB coffee comes in plastic jars.  I still use my old plastic containers from HEB's instant coffee to store my Cafe Puro.  The container with the red lid is with caffeine, the one with the green lid is without caffeine.  The plastic containers, of course, are safer in the kitchen in case you drop one.  (I'll think about microplastics later.)  Wanting to make a change to buying coffee in glass containers is what made me realize that only Nestle seemed to place their instant coffee in glass.  Not wanting to knowingly fund that corporation, I was relieved to find Cafe Puro available at my HEB.  I decided (rationalized, yes) that even though it was grown in the Philippines, I could justify it as honoring the sacrifices that my father made to fight for their liberation from Japan during World War II (issues of colonialism in the past notwithstanding).  As for manufacture in Germany, I decided (again, rationalized) that, since the ships that bring this little bit of coffee to the US are going to sail anyway, I wasn't adding significantly to the consumption of fossil fuels by buying it.  And, anyway, it wasn't Nestle, and I was reusing the old plastic, and recycling the glass, and, well, doing my best.

Now I'm sitting in my hotel room in New York, sipping the Cafe Puro that I brought with me in specially saved mini-jars, carefully protected from breakage while packed in my luggage, and thinking about the ethics of my coffee.  That led to googling brands of coffee made in the Western Hemisphere.  Welp, we still don't grow coffee in Texas, but there is a fair bit of the world's coffee grown further south.  I'm looking at Cafe Bustelo right now, grown in Colombia and Mexico, and . . . sold in glass jars.  Sadly HEB doesn't seem to stock this version of Cafe Bustelo (they have ground and K-Cups and individual packages of instant), but Target lists it in several versions.  I can't tell from the pictures that all versions are in glass; that will take a trip to the store itself (when I get home).

In Ethical Culture we talk about trying to do what is right, but "right" sometimes needs some work to define it.  So does the "do."  My reasons for switching to Cafe Puro were an attempt to find a better way to get my daily caffeine, but now I think it's time to go a step further.  When I get back home, I will go to Target and see the Cafe Bustelo jars for myself.  If the local Target doesn't stock what I want (sustainably grown coffee with reduced shipping costs packed in glass jars), I can always order it for delivery--which leads to the next set of questions about what is "right" and what to "do" in regard to Amazon.

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*It was considered "bad form" for an mzungu to live on the island without hiring local residents to work in some capacity.  Ma Rukia cooked and cleaned and helped with laundry, but she also became a trusted advisor who helped me understand more about the local culture and its norms.  I couldn't have managed without her help.

In with the New, Out with the Old

How can we be sticky?

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That seems to be the way we think these days.  If it's old, throw it away.  If it is old, something--anything--new will be better.  Unfortunately, there is no "away."  If it is material and old, it has to go somewhere.  If it is non-material and old, there is that thing about "tried and true" to be considered.  There is also that problem of defining (and agreeing upon) "better."  I suppose this makes me a hoarder of both things and ideas, but I'd rather think of myself as someone who appreciates the value of things (whether physical or intellectual) as useful objects, even if they only serve to help me understand the world a little bit better.

So, it's a new year.  I am cleaning and clearing a bit.  I ran across an old document from my community organizing days.  It's so old, it was printed with a dot matrix printer.  The title is "Telephone Committee," and the entire (one-page) document is a plan for communicating within a community about events, issues, and needs.  There's a committee chair, 4 committee members, 4 groups of contacts with telephone numbers, and the mandate is simple:  connect to our neighbors, inform them of issues and events, listen to their concerns, bring those concerns back to the center of the organization.

Times have changed, of course.  Most homes no longer have a single "land line" for the whole house to use.  Email and texts have largely taken the place of personal phone calls.  Neighbors seem to meet face-to-face less often (although some may communicate through online groups via Facebook or other platforms).  If I were to propose that we form a Telephone Committee to my neighborhood today, I would be laughed at as out-of-touch and a technological failure.  

Even so, seeing that old Telephone Committee list brought back a reminder of the social context as well as the technological context.  Yes, we have new tech and new ways to communicate these days.  But, look again.  One of the major problems facing our nation today is loneliness.  Our nation is divided by technology that transmits false messages with high persuasiveness.  Our social institutions are literally crumbling around us as we lose confidence in those who lead and/or serve us.  

That Telephone Committee list, however, spoke of a social connection among the homeowners of a single neighborhood.  Despite diversity in age and income and social history, there was common concern with environmental issues, public services (and lack thereof), local government actions that would affect the comfort and cost of living in that neighborhood.  There was, in the limited framework of those (still quite broad) issues, a cohesion and a sense of belonging to a group with purpose and value.  The Telephone Committee played a role in developing and maintaining the group, serving as a connector between the more activist "leaders" and those who were concerned, but not actively working on the issues until called into action.  Rather than being "top-down," however, the TC was meant to serve as a conduit for "bottom-up" messages as well, so that the whole group could both listen and react as needed.  As an added benefit of those "connections," more informal social relations could be developed (e.g., friendships, business contacts, etc.) and "social security" within the group could be improved (e.g., neighborly help, assistance for seniors, childcare, etc.).

While the old days are certainly gone--and I don't live in that neighborhood anymore--I'm thinking that the need for a Telephone Committee might still exist.  Yes, we have email and Facebook and all that, but we still have need to "belong" as well as to "care" and to "act."  Putting this in the context of the Ethical Society rather than a physical neighborhood, once we get past the email part, the main basis of connection is the Sunday meeting.  Even that is problematic for building community since we are geographically so scattered--for the Austin Society as well as others.  While Zoom can bring even distant members together for a Sunday meeting, the question that occurs to me is how we can bridge the social distance that the physical distance is creating/prolonging/exacerbating.  

I think the ESOA Membership Committee is working on that issue.  A big part of any Membership Committee's job is not only recruitment but retention, and the initial effort of our new committee chair to focus on life events (birthdays) was good start.  I wasn't as "excited" about that effort last year as I was this year.  Last year I delayed telling the MC about my birthday until it was past--didn't want to be "asking" for attention or some nonsense.  This year, I was out of town for my birthday, but I had an electronic notice service from the USPS telling me that I had some mail from the MC waiting for me.  I knew it was a birthday card, and that pleased me.  Even better, when I got home, I had a card with a caring and uplifting message that made me feel, well, cared for and uplifted.  

The MC didn't stop with cards, tho.  Now we have a monthly gathering to craft.  The name of the group is a problem--"Stitch and Bitch" was offered by someone, but the current moniker is "Yarn and Yak"--which still makes me twitch--but the purpose of the group is "to build community."  As hard as it is to organize myself to leave the house and drive 30 miles, dragging a bag of beads and tools behind me (I don't knit), I see building community as an essential function of an Ethical Society--and an essential duty for me as a member of the Society.  This effort is a work in progress, but it is, I believe, worth the effort.  

The Austin Society is small.  Yes, we need to grow.  We also need to "stick."  Being "sticky" will help members find their place within the community that we have built (and are still building) and, hopefully, provide some of those social connections that lead to mutual support as well as to collective action.  

That being said, I know that the MC chair is working on another "old" tactic--the welcome letter.  I know for a fact that is an oldie but a goodie.  I received a welcome message (email) after my first visit to ESOA, and, never thinking that it might be "standard operating procedure," was thrilled to be welcomed and invited to come back for more.  (Cf. loneliness above.)  Unfortunately, the current version of our welcome letter is a tad out of date, and the things it promotes need some work.  That's another place at which duty seems to pop up.  The MC chair can't do this by herself, so the Communications Committee and others have some work to do.  All those links in the welcome letter need to be updated.  We could even work on being more outgoing about the things that we are doing:  If we find it interesting and satisfying to attend our events or take part in our activities, maybe others would too.  A new year is a good time to think about how we can do what we are doing a little bit better, even if we are doing it "old school," one person at a time.

Time to get sticky!  (And, great job, Lynn!)